


A Better Reality

by misterreckless



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Badboy!Derek, Fluff, Happy times, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-25
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:33:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1513988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misterreckless/pseuds/misterreckless
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek's bad boy persona is starting to take it's toll on his mother. Will sending him to his father's house for the summer whip him into shape, or is he going to continue being the same disobedient teenager?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Again

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah apparently this is a thing that's happening. This story is going to be mostly fluff and a lot of happy times. Oh and badboy!Derek, which is always a plus. So yeah, enjoy!

"Dammit, Derek," Talia Hale mutters to herself as she reluctantly gets out of bed. The doorbell ringing at 1 am isn't exactly how she wants to be woken up, especially when she already has a good idea of who it is and what it's about. As soon she opens the door, as she predicted, she sees her son, Derek, and officer Jerry. She meets Jerry's eyes, who is currently grasping her son's arm with a stony look on his face and says, "I'm so sorry, Jerry."

  
"Third time so far this summer," Jerry replies. "If this keeps up, I won't be able to keep covering for him."

  
"I know, I know. I'm trying to get it under control," Talia sighs.

  
This is the third time this summer that Derek has been caught vandalizing various places around their town. The first time, he stole a garden gnome out of their neighbor's front yard and broke the head off and then proceeded to put it on their front porch and ring the doorbell. Of course, he got caught in the act by the woman who owns the house, Carol. That was the first time officer Jerry covered for them, consoling Carol by telling her he's just a kid and probably wasn't in his right state of mind when he did it. She didn't actually calm down until Talia told her that she would buy her a new garden gnome to replace the one that her son destroyed.

  
The second time Derek got caught defacing something, he was with his friends at the local park, spray painting obscene drawings and words on the jungle gym. That time, he was lucky he was caught by officer Jerry himself. Officer Jerry had been close friends with the Hales since they were little. He and Talia met at a local coffee shop one afternoon and they've been friends ever since, Jerry showing up at birthday parties if he was available, or coming over for game nights every once in a while. Which was why he covered for Derek on more than one occasion, including this third time.

  
"What did he do now?" Talia asks, not really wanting to know the answer. Officer Jerry takes a deep breath and says, "I caught him with that Isaac kid from over in Beacon Hills, putting bologna on the principal's car."

  
Derek finally speaks when he laughs softly and says, "Classic."

  
Talia throws him an offended look, while Jerry sighs and rubs a hand over his face. "Talia, I know you're trying to keep him under control, but this is getting out of hand. Maybe you oughtta send him to summer camp or something, whip him into shape."

  
Before Talia can say anything, Derek is shoving past her into the house saying, "Dunno who you think you are."

  
Derek's mother looks down at the ground, embarrassed of her son's behavior. "I've been thinking about calling his father, to see if I could send him to Beacon Hills for the remainder of the summer. I don't know if it'll do any good or not, but I figure his dad will probably be better at keeping him under wraps than me, if this is any indicator."

  
"I think that sounds like a good idea," Jerry replies. "Anything to help that kid." Jerry looks like he wants to say something else, but decides against it. Instead, he says, "Well, I've gotta get back to the station. Goodnight, Talia."

  
"Goodnight, Jerry. And thanks, again."


	2. Whatever

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still not sure which direction I'm taking with this. I have a million ideas running through my head. I think I'm pretty okay with the way it's turning out though, so yeah. Enjoy!

"I'm not going," Derek insists once again, crossing his arms. Ever since Talia told him that he would be going to Beacon Hills to spend the rest of the summer with his father, he's been moping around the house looking even more angry than he usually does.

  
"Yes you are, Derek," Talia says. "We aren't arguing about this anymore. Go grab your bags."

  
Derek gets up, sighing, and stomps to his bedroom. When he comes back into the kitchen with two duffle bags in hand, he glares at his mother and says, "I'll never forgive you for this."

  
Ever since Talia and Derek's father, Jack, divorced two years ago, Derek's been on pretty bad terms with him. They hardly ever talk, and when they do, it's awkward minute-long conversations on holidays and birthdays. So it goes without saying that Derek really, really doesn't want to go spend the rest of the summer with his father.

  
"Yes, you've mentioned that already," Talia says. "But I can't think of anything else to do with you; your behavior is beyond my control and this is the only thing I can think of that might actually work. It's for the best."

  
"Whatever," Derek replies. "Let's get this damn drive over with then."

  
"Language," Talia scolds. Derek just rolls his eyes and starts walking toward the front door.

  
Beacon Hills is about 30 minutes away from Sacramento, where Derek lives with his mother and two sisters, Laura and Cora. The drive to his father's is filled with awkward silence, Talia throwing concerned looks in Derek's direction every now and then. When they finally get to Jack's house, Derek starts opening the car door without even bothering to say goodbye. Talia pulls an ear bud out of his ear and says, "Hey. I love you."

  
"Whatever," Derek says. That seems to be his favorite word lately.

  
"I'll call you tomorrow," Talia tells him. Derek gets out of the car and starts walking to the front door. When Talia sees Jack open it, she starts pulling out of the driveway, beeping her horn. Her and Jack aren't exactly friends, per se, but they're on decent terms.

  
As soon as Derek enters the house, his father turns to him and says, "Okay, here's how this is going to go. First, you're going to take out those atrocious ear piercings and that damn nose piercing that makes you look like a bull. Second, you're going to listen to what I say, and you're not going to speak to any of your so called "friends" from back home while you're here. The reason your mother sent you here is to try to see if we can adapt you to a different lifestyle than the one you're living right now, which means no more piercings, no more vandalizing shit that doesn't belong to you, and no more smoking pot. Sorry, buddy." Derek doesn't really know what to say, just stands there staring at his father as if he's an alien or something. This is the most his father has spoken to him since the divorce, and it's about how Derek needs to change how he's living. Who does he think he is? 

 

"That means now, Derek. Take those piercings out, please," his father instructs him. As Derek reluctantly starts reaching a hand up to his ear, his father nods his encouragement and says, "Thank you. Was that so hard?"

 

"Fuck you," Derek mutters under his breath. He drops the rings in his dad's hand.

  
"Hey. I'll have none of that while you're here, or I'll make you sit here and stare at a blank wall for a while until you learn your lesson, like I used to do when you were little," his father tells him. "Now, get upstairs and start unpacking your bags. Your room is the first door on the right. Be back down for dinner in an hour. Oh, and give me your cell phone. You'll get it back when I feel it's right."

  
"You're taking my fucking cell phone?" Derek shouts. "This is such bull shit. I want to go home."

  
"Please don't swear at me. And yes, I'm taking your cell phone until you can learn to not act like this, this whole bad boy persona you're trying to pull off. You're not fooling anyone, Derek. Now, give me your cell phone, please."

  
Derek hands his dad his cell phone and stomps as loud as he can up the stairs. After he slams the door, he hears his father shout, "Dinner in an hour!"

  
"I know, you stupid fuck," Derek mutters under his breath. He looks around his bedroom and takes in the unfamiliar surroundings. The room in general gave him a weird feeling, like there was something not right about it. It's too neat. The bed is perfectly made, the books on the bookshelf are in descending order from largest to smallest, and the pictures on the wall are all straight. Derek sighs, and starts unpacking his clothes. This is going to be a long, long couple months.


	3. Mario Kart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is the longest chapter yet, and I'm super happy with the way it turned out. Took me forever to figure out what to write and how to organize it in a way that I would be happy with. But yeah here's Chapter 3!   
> Oh and feel free to follow me on tumblr. My URL is codysio :)

It's been three days since Derek's been at his father's house, and nothing's really changed. He just misses his phone, and being able to talk to his friends. All he's been doing is watching TV and trying not to throw himself out of his bedroom window while his dad tries making small talk with him. It's a Sunday night and they're both perched on the couch, watching a rerun of some sit-com on Nick at Nite when his dad clears his throat and says, "So, I have a project for you."

"Well, whatever it is, I'm not doing it," Derek says.

"Oh, yes you are. There's a guy that lives down the street, Sheriff Stilinski. He's the sheriff of Beacon Hills. He's been extremely busy at the station lately, solving murders and what not. He's been wanting to repaint his house, and he's been too busy to do it with the work load he has. I told him that you're here for the summer, and that you could help him. And by help I mean you're going to paint it."

"Yeah? Well, what's in it for me?" Derek asks.

"Why does there have to be something in it for you? You can't just help someone without expecting anything in return? It's not such a bad thing, Derek," his father tells him.

Derek sighs. "Whatever."

"You're going. Whether you like it or not. Be there at 8 tomorrow morning. And don't be late. The sheriff has to be at the station by 9," his dad tells him.

Derek crosses his arms and glares at his dad. Yes, because this is exactly how he wants to be spending his summer, painting some old fuck's house and watching reruns of shitty TV shows. He just wants to go home, and he can't understand why his dad is making him do this.

"I don't understand why I have to do it," Derek confesses.

"Because," his dad starts, Derek preparing himself for what is sure to be a long and useless speech. "Your mother sent you here to change. I'm trying to teach you that doing something nice for someone every once in a while isn't a bad thing, and that you don't always have to expect something in return. You aren't going to get very far in life if all you do is vandalize your city and sit on your ass with your friends while you smoke pot and screw around. I'm not arguing with you about this, so get that glare off your face and be there at 8 tomorrow," his dad tells him.

Derek sighs again, and goes upstairs to his room. He slams the door and lies down on his bed, and lets his mind wander to his mom and his sisters. He wonders how they're doing, and if they miss him as much as he misses them, as much as he hates to admit that he actually does miss them. At least when he was at his mom's house he had some sense of freedom, and he didn't have to paint strangers' houses. He flips onto his side and falls into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

"You must be Jack's son! It's nice to finally meet you." The guy standing in front of him, Sheriff Stilinski, holds out his hand to Derek, and gives him a tight-gripped handshake." Derek replies with a simple, "Yeah."

"Alright, so here's the deal," Sheriff Stilinski says, ignoring Derek's poor communication skills and walking onto the porch to lead Derek to the backyard. "I really appreciate you doing this. I haven't even had time to breathe, really, let alone paint my house. The paint is on the back deck, and there is a ladder and paint brushes and everything else you might need back there. You can start wherever you want; it's up to you. You're the one doing all the work, after all." Sheriff Stilinski laughs quietly, and Derek just stares at him. "Alright, well, I've gotta get down to the station. There's a cooler near the stairs with some bottled water and sandwiches in it for you. My son, Stiles, is inside, although he'll probably be asleep until at least noon but you can wake him if you need anything." The sheriff smiles at him and grabs his shoulder. "Thanks for doing this, Derek."

"My dad is pretty much forcing me. I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to," Derek says.

"Well, I'm glad you are. I'll see you later," the Sheriff smiles at Derek again (Seriously, is there something wrong with the guy's mouth or something? Why does he smile so much?) before turning on his heel and heading back to the front of the house. Derek looks down at all the painting tools in front of him and decides to get to work. Better just get it over with.

* * *

Derek paints until it's well past noon. He steps off the ladder and wipes sweat off his forehead. The temperature is burning up now, the cool breeze from the morning no longer present. He's parched, and his stomach is starting to growl, so he decides to grab a bottle of water and a sandwich from the cooler. He's sitting on the patio chair eating his sandwich when the back door slides open, and a boy about Derek's age pokes his head out. He's wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, and he has severe bed head. Derek tilts his head at him and the kid, Stiles, he's assuming, opens the door a little wider, and says, "Hi, I'm Stiles. You must be Derek." 

"Yes," Derek says.

Stiles nods and says, "Cool. Nice to meet you, dude. I'm gonna go back inside and shower and stuff. Have fun painting."

Stiles goes back inside and shuts the door behind him. Derek continues to stare at the door after Stiles pushes it shut, slightly confused. A little while later, Derek gets up and picks up the paint brush to continue painting when the back door slides open again. Stiles walks out, tripping on the single step that leads down onto the deck. Derek watches as he plops himself in the chair he vacated minutes before.

"So, Derek. Where are you from?" Stiles asks, folding his hands in his lap and looking up at Derek expectantly, as if nothing just happened. Derek squints his eyes at Stiles, considering him, not really understanding why Stiles is making small talk. He answers anyway, saying, "Sacramento."

"Ah, okay. Not far from here," Stiles observes. "So, are you just here for the summer?"

"Yes," Derek says. Stiles nods, and then he asks, "Do you come here every summer, or just this summer?"

"Just this summer."

Derek wished the kid would stop asking him questions so he could get back to work and go back to his dad's house and maybe sleep, or go walk around and find a nice building to spray paint.

"Oh," Stiles says, nodding again. There's a moment of awkward silence between them, then Stiles stands up, running a hand through his wet hair. Derek was trying to think of a way to get Stiles to go back inside without being a dick, because he's kind of getting on Derek's nerves. As soon as Derek says, "I should probably get back to painting," Stiles says, "Do you like to play video games?"

"What? Sorry." Stiles says.

"No, you go first," Derek replies.

"Do you play video games?" Stiles asks.

"I- What? Yeah, sometimes," Derek says, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Well, do you want to play one? I've got a ton of them, and it seems like you'd rather be doing anything but painting our house. Which I totally don't blame you for. You couldn't pay me enough to do that. I've gotta give you credit, dude."

"My dad kind of forced me into doing it," Derek says. "So, whatever. But yeah, I mean, what the hell. Video games sound good, I guess. Anything's better than standing here painting your damn house."

Stiles laughs and says, "Cool! Come on, we'll go pick one out."

Derek grabs his bottle of water and follows Stiles inside. As it turns out, Stiles does have quite a selection of video games. They decide on Mario Kart, and Derek and Stiles sit in Stiles' bedroom until Derek looks over at Stiles' alarm clock and reads 4:47 p.m. and realizes that they've been playing the game for almost four hours. Derek presses pause on his Wii controller and gets up, ignoring Stiles' groan of protest, and tells Stiles, "I should probably head home. I think I'm supposed to be back here tomorrow to paint more, so I'll see you then, I guess."

"Yeah, dude. See you," Stiles says. Derek starts his walk back to his dad's house with a lot on his mind. That Stiles kid wasn't half bad; sure, he gets on his nerves a little bit, what with his inability to stay on one subject longer than five seconds, but Derek can't help but find something endearing about him, and he kind of hates himself for it.


End file.
